Complications
by Autumn Moon Fae
Summary: "He's Captain America. He does what's right. He always does what's right. When did things get so complicated?" Steve tries to apologize to Tony about the things he said on the Helicarrier. It doesn't go as planned. Oneshot. Not slash.


**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, try not to murder.**

**A/N: So...first, I must clarify in case you didn't see it in the summary: I do not ship Stony. Not at all. Tony's meant for Pepper. So...if you REALLY want to see it as Stony, I guess so...but it's really Pepperony and Steve finding out that he severely miscalculated Tony. Heck, it's not even really Steve/Tony bromance...I don't know. Read, and find out! :)**

* * *

**Complications**

He's been haunted by it for days.

He's Captain America. He does what's right. He _always_ does what's right.

When did things get so complicated?

* * *

Steve grimaces, squares his shoulders, and walks out onto the half-open deck/bar/living room.

"- gonna say Potts?"

"On the lease."

She raises her eyebrows. He adds, somewhat belatedly, "You can have a whole floor…?"

Pepper leans up to kiss Tony. "That depends on who I share it with, Mr. Stark."

After a moment Steve clears his throat. "Um…"

They break apart. Tony grumbles, "This had better be good," and Pepper's shoulders shake a little in laughter, spinning the hologram over the table with a casual hand.

"I'll leave you two to it then," she says, still professional, and heads for the door. As she passes Steve, she bites her lip. He watches her shake her head, mouthing what looks like "Don't hurt him."

Again, the guilt.

"Get over here Capsicle, gotta show you this."

"I –"

"Yep, it's electricity. Just lost a bet with Pepper, thought it'd take you two and a half more seconds to figure that out. So, this would be your floor, lost another bet with Pepper when Fury 'dis-approved' the freezer – hey, I can be thoughtful, right? – I tend to lose bets with Pepper, you've probably noticed. It's sorta like playing chess with Jarv –"

"I just wanted to say that–"

"Love you too, Cap. Soundproof or no soundproof on the training room?"

"I'm sorry."

Tony stops, hands frozen in place messing with the hologram tower. His head turns slowly, eyes fixed on Steve's.

He waits for it – the "you have nothing to be sorry about", the "it's my fault", the "stop blaming yourself."

It doesn't come.

"The hell you are."

He glances around, almost nervous, almost waiting for Pepper to come back and make it alright. He was so…happy when Pepper was there.

_Don't hurt him._

He's such an idiot.

"I was actually doing alright before that, you know," Tony says, each casual word dipped in ice, pouring himself a scotch. "I'd almost gotten over it. Kinda thought I could still be someone – someone to myself, not the oh-so-gullible world, thought I might be able to make up for it. Well, there goes. Just can't seem to keep a father figure. First Dad, then Obie, then you. Whatever. It's part of my charm." He raises his glass. "To unloved geniuses."

"Tony –"

"You don't know what it was like." His eyes – chocolate? – bore into Steve's with a fierce, almost panicked intensity. "What happened to me, you couldn't have done it. I _know _you couldn't have done it. But it doesn't matter, does it? Me equals arrogant playboy, you equals honorable capsicle." He shrugs. "At a speech I asked whether it was better to be feared or respected – looking back, that was the stupidest question I ever asked in my life, and believe me, I asked many. So don't come here begging for forgiveness, or worse just asking for it. Honesty time: you're not going to get any."

"Tony – I don't understand."

"Did you ever ask yourself _why _I shut down a multi-million weapons industry?"

"N – Yes – but –What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's my fault anyway. I deleted it." Tony takes a swallow of scotch. "Ask Pepper."

He nods. He can't help wondering what he's hiding, but he _does _know better than to ask about it.

"That wasn't the worst part," Stark says, and this time it's quiet. Deep breath. He pushes himself to his feet.

Steve waits.

"Everything you said was true. Completely, inexcusably, irrevocably true."

Steve stays, horrified and silent, too late for bland reassurance.

"That doesn't give you a right to say it," Tony says, walking away. "But it's true."


End file.
